One of the coolest things about Ohio, is that if you stop at the first rest stop coming into the state from PA, there is a monument to all the state DOT workers who died, well, in the line of duty. Those guys have one hell of a dangerous job and are extremely overlooked.

cretinbob:One of the coolest things about Ohio, is that if you stop at the first rest stop coming into the state from PA, there is a monument to all the state DOT workers who died, well, in the line of duty. Those guys have one hell of a dangerous job and are extremely overlooked.

There's one here in VA, too, on I-64 coming down over the Blue Ridge, not far from where TFA took place, incidentally.

cgraves67:Dang, he must've been painting lines like a bat out of hell.

Thinking the same thing.

The driver of a roadway line-painting truck, headed north on Interstate 81 to a Nelson County worksite, died this morning when the left front tire of his truck blew out and the truck careened into a guardrail and overturned.

This closed the highway into work this morning for over two hours. I was stuck in traffic for about three and a half. This morning at the gym was weights and I always pound a protein shake just before I leave the gym. It's an off and on kind of thing, but sometimes the shakes give me explosive diarrhea. Those mornings, I have to speed and sprint into the office before I shame myself. Wouldn't you know that I had an attack this morning sitting in traffic.

It was especially bad because I was right up alongside where the truck was overturned. The accident mangled the driver pretty bad, so they were basically cutting chunks of him out of the vehicle and throwing them into a pile alongside the road. He was a big fat bastard, like most of them, so the pile was a good four feet high. That's a pretty barren stretch otherwise, so I didn't have much choice but to try to hide behind the body and do my business.

I don't know if it's much a consolation to anyone else who was stuck in this traffic, but I crapped on him pretty good and then used his flannel to wipe with. Check your tires before you ruin everyone's Friday, asshole.

zabadu:cgraves67: Dang, he must've been painting lines like a bat out of hell.

Thinking the same thing.

The driver of a roadway line-painting truck, headed north on Interstate 81 to a Nelson County worksite, died this morning when the left front tire of his truck blew out and the truck careened into a guardrail and overturned.

How freaking fast was he going?

Those things aren't designed like an F1 car, you know. There's quite a bit of weight, typically situated high off the road. And it doesn't say he was actually striping at the time.

cretinbob:One of the coolest things about Ohio, is that if you stop at the first rest stop coming into the state from PA, there is a monument to all the state DOT workers who died, well, in the line of duty. Those guys have one hell of a dangerous job and are extremely overlooked.

spentmiles:This closed the highway into work this morning for over two hours. I was stuck in traffic for about three and a half. This morning at the gym was weights and I always pound a protein shake just before I leave the gym. It's an off and on kind of thing, but sometimes the shakes give me explosive diarrhea. Those mornings, I have to speed and sprint into the office before I shame myself. Wouldn't you know that I had an attack this morning sitting in traffic.

It was especially bad because I was right up alongside where the truck was overturned. The accident mangled the driver pretty bad, so they were basically cutting chunks of him out of the vehicle and throwing them into a pile alongside the road. He was a big fat bastard, like most of them, so the pile was a good four feet high. That's a pretty barren stretch otherwise, so I didn't have much choice but to try to hide behind the body and do my business.

I don't know if it's much a consolation to anyone else who was stuck in this traffic, but I crapped on him pretty good and then used his flannel to wipe with. Check your tires before you ruin everyone's Friday, asshole.

cretinbob:One of the coolest things about Ohio, is that if you stop at the first rest stop coming into the state from PA, there is a monument to all the state DOT workers who died, well, in the line of duty. Those guys have one hell of a dangerous job and are extremely overlooked.

Also, if that's one of the coolest things about Ohio remind me to stay out of Ohio.

Elegy:zabadu: cgraves67: Dang, he must've been painting lines like a bat out of hell.

Thinking the same thing.

The driver of a roadway line-painting truck, headed north on Interstate 81 to a Nelson County worksite, died this morning when the left front tire of his truck blew out and the truck careened into a guardrail and overturned.

How freaking fast was he going?

Those things aren't designed like an F1 car, you know. There's quite a bit of weight, typically situated high off the road. And it doesn't say he was actually striping at the time.

High CG + weight = rollover.See also SUV.

I think we all realized that about 2 seconds into the article. It's just more fun to think that he was painting lines at high speed.

spentmiles:This closed the highway into work this morning for over two hours. I was stuck in traffic for about three and a half. This morning at the gym was weights and I always pound a protein shake just before I leave the gym. It's an off and on kind of thing, but sometimes the shakes give me explosive diarrhea. Those mornings, I have to speed and sprint into the office before I shame myself. Wouldn't you know that I had an attack this morning sitting in traffic.

It was especially bad because I was right up alongside where the truck was overturned. The accident mangled the driver pretty bad, so they were basically cutting chunks of him out of the vehicle and throwing them into a pile alongside the road. He was a big fat bastard, like most of them, so the pile was a good four feet high. That's a pretty barren stretch otherwise, so I didn't have much choice but to try to hide behind the body and do my business.

I don't know if it's much a consolation to anyone else who was stuck in this traffic, but I crapped on him pretty good and then used his flannel to wipe with. Check your tires before you ruin everyone's Friday, asshole.

cgraves67:Elegy: zabadu: cgraves67: Dang, he must've been painting lines like a bat out of hell.

Thinking the same thing.

The driver of a roadway line-painting truck, headed north on Interstate 81 to a Nelson County worksite, died this morning when the left front tire of his truck blew out and the truck careened into a guardrail and overturned.

How freaking fast was he going?

Those things aren't designed like an F1 car, you know. There's quite a bit of weight, typically situated high off the road. And it doesn't say he was actually striping at the time.

High CG + weight = rollover.See also SUV.

I think we all realized that about 2 seconds into the article. It's just more fun to think that he was painting lines at high speed.

Dad was a Highway Patrolman. I kind of understand how car accidents work.But it was fun to picture him flying. The driver, not my dad.

I am actually pretty familiar with the Raphine area. Those are some steep ass sides on that stretch of road. My guess is that thing didn't just overturn once, but that baby flipped and rolled a few times. It is a bit ironic a VDOT truck isn't better maintained though...

halfof33:spentmiles: This closed the highway into work this morning for over two hours. I was stuck in traffic for about three and a half. This morning at the gym was weights and I always pound a protein shake just before I leave the gym. It's an off and on kind of thing, but sometimes the shakes give me explosive diarrhea. Those mornings, I have to speed and sprint into the office before I shame myself. Wouldn't you know that I had an attack this morning sitting in traffic.

It was especially bad because I was right up alongside where the truck was overturned. The accident mangled the driver pretty bad, so they were basically cutting chunks of him out of the vehicle and throwing them into a pile alongside the road. He was a big fat bastard, like most of them, so the pile was a good four feet high. That's a pretty barren stretch otherwise, so I didn't have much choice but to try to hide behind the body and do my business.

I don't know if it's much a consolation to anyone else who was stuck in this traffic, but I crapped on him pretty good and then used his flannel to wipe with. Check your tires before you ruin everyone's Friday, asshole.

But i guess you are one of those guys who forwards his posts to your "google group" huh? Actually That's a pretty funny image.

I imagine you sitting in your parent's- no grandmother's- basement, with some kind of headset apparatus on your acne pocked melon, snorting with laughter. Your potato fingers stab at an oversized keypad and suddenly your only friend in the world, Gnuyn your pen pal from Cambodia, answers the phone and you grunt to him in your exclusive made-up pet language that he should check out fark.com and read his post.

Of course he has no idea what you are talking about. He never has. But he clucks into the receiver slavishly because your mom keeps sending him ten dollar bills every christmas so he has to be nice to you.

You chuckle some more, careful not to spill your capri sun, and then finger type a post bookended by some dazzling html that makes it stand out from all the others with its bold color. You are so proud of yourself that you don't bother to read any other comments, you simply 'ctl f' your login over and over again to keep track of all the felating responses to your superior humor. Gnuyn laughs nervously. You take that as a compliment.

You reread your posts until you become aroused and have to start typing one-handed. You come close to climaxing when you find someone who spelled "you are" as "your." Deep down you wish you had someone else to call that would actually listen to your nonsense- and you know it's nonsense. If you posted anything close to a rational thought no one would respond to you- you know, you've tried. So you blather on. You pray that someone will reply in the same way most of us pray we had two dicks. Perhaps we can borrow yours? Since you've never bothered to use it?

You briefly wonder what it would be like to be with a woman. A second later you regain control and resume stabbing your alienware keyboard with your stubby cheeto fingers and use your shoulder to push your glasses back into place above your fat dimpled sweaty nose.

I imagine your grandmother pounding on the basement door, yelling at you that you should come to bed. You release your two inch mushroom in a panic and fling your "love" sock into a dark corner. You pathetically try to pull up your sweatpants while bleating, "five more minutes, Nana!"

You rifle off one more razor sharp post and then cry yourself to sleep. You dream of Optimus Prime giving you a back rub while you ride He-man's cat around your high school gym to terrorize the cool kids. You have one thumb in your mouth and the other in your anus.

Just another beautiful day in the life of Immaculate Misconception ransack.

meddleRPI:cretinbob: One of the coolest things about Ohio, is that if you stop at the first rest stop coming into the state from PA, there is a monument to all the state DOT workers who died, well, in the line of duty. Those guys have one hell of a dangerous job and are extremely overlooked.

There's one here in VA, too, on I-64 coming down over the Blue Ridge, not far from where TFA took place, incidentally.

I have a feeling that when Bob Leweke goes over the news in the morning he'll attempt a snarky comment that's chock full of fail about that.

cretinbob:One of the coolest things about Ohio, is that if you stop at the first rest stop coming into the state from PA, there is a monument to all the state DOT workers who died, well, in the line of duty. Those guys have one hell of a dangerous job and are extremely overlooked.

As an example, I would think that Ohio's, specifically Cleveland, having the second largest theater district in the country, only behind NYC may be higher on the list than the monument at a rest stop.

But i guess you are one of those guys who forwards his posts to your "google group" huh? Actually That's a pretty funny image.

I imagine you sitting in your parent's- no grandmother's- basement, with some kind of headset apparatus on your acne pocked melon, snorting with laughter. Your potato fingers stab at an oversized keypad and suddenly your only friend in the world, Gnuyn your pen pal from Cambodia, answers the phone and you grunt to him in your exclusive made-up pet language that he should check out fark.com and read his post.

Of course he has no idea what you are talking about. He never has. But he clucks into the receiver slavishly because your mom keeps sending him ten dollar bills every christmas so he has to be nice to you.

You chuckle some more, careful not to spill your capri sun, and then finger type a post bookended by some dazzling html that makes it stand out from all the others with its bold color. You are so proud of yourself that you don't bother to read any other comments, you simply 'ctl f' your login over and over again to keep track of all the felating responses to your superior humor. Gnuyn laughs nervously. You take that as a compliment.

You reread your posts until you become aroused and have to start typing one-handed. You come close to climaxing when you find someone who spelled "you are" as "your." Deep down you wish you had someone else to call that would actually listen to your nonsense- and you know it's nonsense. If you posted anything close to a rational thought no one would respond to you- you know, you've tried. So you blather on. You pray that someone will reply in the same way most of us pray we had two dicks. Perhaps we can borrow yours? Since you've never bothered to use it?

You briefly wonder what it would be like to be with a woman. A second later you regain control and resume stabbing your alienware keyboard with your stubby cheeto fingers and use your shoulder to push your glasses back into place above your fat dimpled sweaty nose.

I imagine your grandmother pounding on the basement door, yelling at you that you should come to bed. You release your two inch mushroom in a panic and fling your "love" sock into a dark corner. You pathetically try to pull up your sweatpants while bleating, "five more minutes, Nana!"

You rifle off one more razor sharp post and then cry yourself to sleep. You dream of Optimus Prime giving you a back rub while you ride He-man's cat around your high school gym to terrorize the cool kids. You have one thumb in your mouth and the other in your anus.

Just another beautiful day in the life of Immaculate Misconception ransack.

Steve McQueen's Motorcycle:As an example, I would think that Ohio's, specifically Cleveland, having the second largest theater district in the country, only behind NYC may be higher on the list than the monument at a rest stop.

Don't forget the Air Force Museum at WPAFB, Cedar Point, if you are into roller coasters, free alcohol samples at the grocery store......

cretinbob:One of the coolest things about Ohio, is that if you stop at the first rest stop coming into the state from PA, there is a monument to all the state DOT workers who died, well, in the line of duty. Those guys have one hell of a dangerous job and are extremely overlooked.

I did a workterm as a civil engineer, working for the city, and a lot of it was marking streets and painting lines. People would blast past us, ignore the signs, all sorts of garbage.

The guy I worked for had a trick where he could flick a traffic cone onto the windshield of an oncoming car without raising his foot higher than his knee, really subtle. Brakes would clamp the fark on.

spentmiles:This closed the highway into work this morning for over two hours. I was stuck in traffic for about three and a half. This morning at the gym was weights and I always pound a protein shake just before I leave the gym. It's an off and on kind of thing, but sometimes the shakes give me explosive diarrhea. Those mornings, I have to speed and sprint into the office before I shame myself. Wouldn't you know that I had an attack this morning sitting in traffic.

It was especially bad because I was right up alongside where the truck was overturned. The accident mangled the driver pretty bad, so they were basically cutting chunks of him out of the vehicle and throwing them into a pile alongside the road. He was a big fat bastard, like most of them, so the pile was a good four feet high. That's a pretty barren stretch otherwise, so I didn't have much choice but to try to hide behind the body and do my business.

I don't know if it's much a consolation to anyone else who was stuck in this traffic, but I crapped on him pretty good and then used his flannel to wipe with. Check your tires before you ruin everyone's Friday, asshole.

I'm going to send this to my ex-wife (with no explanatory note whatsoever) if you don't mind. Got to keep the pressure on. Thanks for making my day.

NASCAR would attain new respectability if they had specialty machines line road line painting trucks race every once in a while. if each truck laid a different color paint in their wake the event would soon go from artistic to "holy shiat do you see that mofo spin out?"

cretinbob:One of the coolest things about Ohio, is that if you stop at the first rest stop coming into the state from PA, there is a monument to all the state DOT workers who died, well, in the line of duty. Those guys have one hell of a dangerous job and are extremely overlooked.

There's one on 64 on Afton Mountain, where they would have probably driven by on the way to UVA hospital

But i guess you are one of those guys who forwards his posts to your "google group" huh? Actually That's a pretty funny image.

I imagine you sitting in your parent's- no grandmother's- basement, with some kind of headset apparatus on your acne pocked melon, snorting with laughter. Your potato fingers stab at an oversized keypad and suddenly your only friend in the world, Gnuyn your pen pal from Cambodia, answers the phone and you grunt to him in your exclusive made-up pet language that he should check out fark.com and read his post.

Of course he has no idea what you are talking about. He never has. But he clucks into the receiver slavishly because your mom keeps sending him ten dollar bills every christmas so he has to be nice to you.

You chuckle some more, careful not to spill your capri sun, and then finger type a post bookended by some dazzling html that makes it stand out from all the others with its bold color. You are so proud of yourself that you don't bother to read any other comments, you simply 'ctl f' your login over and over again to keep track of all the felating responses to your superior humor. Gnuyn laughs nervously. You take that as a compliment.

You reread your posts until you become aroused and have to start typing one-handed. You come close to climaxing when you find someone who spelled "you are" as "your." Deep down you wish you had someone else to call that would actually listen to your nonsense- and you know it's nonsense. If you posted anything close to a rational thought no one would respond to you- you know, you've tried. So you blather on. You pray that someone will reply in the same way most of us pray we had two dicks. Perhaps we can borrow yours? Since you've never bothered to use it?

You briefly wonder what it would be like to be with a woman. A second later you regain control and resume stabbing your alienware keyboard with ...